Changing Diapers
by Whitney911
Summary: This kid is driving me insane. Why the heck would anyone trust me with their kid anyways? The screaming is just not stopping, and with my weakening state of sanity, I have to call for help. But why is the only one that can is...Amy? Sonamy


"Ugh! Make it STOP!"

"I don't know **HOW**. He won't stop crying!"

"Then CLEARLY you're doing something wrong!"

"You ain't helping me out either, Einstein!"

"You just suck at parenting! Oh, I can't **TAKE **this anymore! I'm outta here!"

"Wait, Tails! Buddy, come on! I'll lay off on the chilidogs for a WEEK if you help me out!"

"Ha! Make it a **year** with THAT kid!"

The fox is out of the workshop in the next second, leaving me and the cries of baby Mint in the living room. I look down at the crocodile with an expression of horror, his gaze meeting mine with temporary stillness and a confusing look. A few seconds of peaceful silence linger until Mint starts bawling again, and I rush him into my arms and try to shut him up.

I would have never accepted this babysitting job had I known this kid was the father of all tantrums. Actually, I don't think I ever DID accept this job in the first place. I mean, Vanilla popped up at my door with a look of pure desperation, and being the heroic softie I was, I gave unconditional hints of willingness at her request that I babysit her kid. She's been less organized ever since she and Vector married a year ago, I'm sure. It's getting better, but the fact that she hadn't found a babysitter until this very day, where Cream's parent-teacher meetings take place for the first time of her school-life, shows that she has some catching up to do. I wonder why she hadn't chosen someone more…suitable for a task such as this, since I have NO experience with handling children and, quite frankly, have no desire to. Sure, I love kids, but only when the sole relation I have to them is taking them and giving them to someone else as I please. I have a temporary attention-span with kids; hold 'em a few minutes, then they get heavy, and that's when you give them to the next gooney guy who is obsessed with babies.

To my dismay, I am NOT in a situation that is in my favor. My closest comrade and best friend has just walked out on me in the most desperate of times. Where is the loyalty? I will never admit that I would have done the same if I was in his shoes, because right now I'm the one suffering and gradually losing my sense of hearing to the little dude's cries.

"Quiet, quiet. It's ok, I got ya, bud." I try to calm him down, but he hasn't stopped crying since Vanilla shoved him into my arms. He was sobbing right off.

"Oh, it'll be ok," she had tried to assure me, using that convincing tone and laid back smile Cream inherited from her. "He'll stop after a few minutes. Just play with him a bit and feed him." Funny, I have no idea what I'm supposed to feed him. For a second, I even wondered if babies ate. "We'll be back in a few hours."

It took me a moment, ironic for the fastest guy on the planet, to let her last sentence sink in. I called after her because 'a few hours' sounded like a hint to ultimate torment, but she ran off as quickly as I would have, and now I'm stuck with a baby crocodile bawling his eyes out for the next how-many hours to come.

I'm desperate. Sooooooo desperate.

After a few minutes of trying _everything_ – hopping, playing, feeding, making funny faces, _singing, dammit! – _the kid is STILL not hushing up. My patience at its end, I dash to the phone, realizing that I am in need of salvation and aid. It's at my ear and I start wondering how this thing works. Oh, it's wireless. Does that mean - oh, numbers. Okay. But wait…who the heck do I call?

Knuckles is the first to cross my mind. It'd be a horrific experience to babysit with him, but _**anyone **_will do at this point. My finger is ready to press numbers when I realize something: Knuckles doesn't even have a phone. If the whole concept of technology is surreal to me, then how much more so it is to Knuckles, a guy who lives solo on a _floating island._ My lips tighten at Mint's hysterical screaming, now louder since I'm not there to be his audience. I'm not even supposed to leave kids on their own anyways, right? It's fine though; I left him on the couch. Wait, that's bad, isn't it? What if he falls off?

I dash to the living room, leaving the phone in the kitchen. Seeing he's fine, I breathe a sigh of relief, but start to wonder if maybe I should have just left him there because his crying keeps going. I'm getting a headache, which is amazing because I am _never _sick or anything, and if I am it's when I'm seriously close to death, so I'm guessing my life is at its end. Tails has the tendency to leave the house then too, curiously enough.

I wonder how I'm supposed to call someone now, with the phone in the kitchen and the baby in the living room. I figure I have to be with one of the two…then I get a flashback of Tails strutting up and down the hallway, phone at his ear. I slap my face at how ditsy I was. It's a _cordless _phone! I can bring that thing _outside _if I wanted! I grab the phone and am back in the living room with it in less time than a saccade.

So Knux is outta the question. I start skimming through a mental list of potential babysitters and see that it's slim. I think Rouge, but I've seen her with kids. It wasn't pretty. Plus, she's creepy one-on-one. She does this weird eye-thing and starts getting _really _clingy. I mean, I don't mind sometimes, but right now…just no.

I am about to dial Vanilla's number, but remember that this is her kid that she wanted me to babysit.

Tails just bailed out on me, the little sucker. I'll definitely get him back for that.

…I'll skip…her. I start blushing.

Big? No, he's just as isolated as Knuckles and probably has as much knowledge about kids as he does about the sun, which limits to 'it's warm and bright.'

My face beams at a possibility. I dash to the kitchen again, Mint in one arm this time, and yank out a phone book from a drawer. Mint is still in my arms, screaming bloody terror, and I'm balancing the book on my knee as I stand balancing on one foot and flip through the pages with one hand. I eventually find Chaotix Detective Agency and slam the book down on the counter. This action startles Mint and gets him to quiet down for a few seconds before bawling his eyes out again.

A growl rises in my throat as I wait for someone to pick up. I'm hoping it's Vector; maybe he can take his kid back.

Instead, a pitchy voice answers.

"Yeah, whaddya want?" I easily pinpoint this voice to Charmy the bee. I consider him for a second, but realize the pure stupidity of the thought.

"A babysitter," I answer flatly nonetheless.

"A wha - BABYSITTER? WE AIN'T NO BABYSITTING SERVICE! GO CALL MC DONALDS OR SOMETHING!"

"Wait, Charmy! It's Sonic! Lemme talk to Vector!"

"Pft, yeah right. Like I haven't heard THAT one before!"

"No, wait, well-" I flinch at Mint's hollering in my ear. It's hard to yell into the phone for a potential babysitter over the crying. It ruins my chances of being saved.

I hear a deeper voice in the background on the other line, yelling at Charmy. The bee yells back something about Mc Donalds. There's a crash and a yelp, then a mature voice comes on the line.

"My deepest apologizes for that _insect's _conduct. May I help you with something, sir?"

"Yeah, uh-" I flinch at another piecing cry. "Is Vector there?"

"Sadly not. He is on a family outing at the moment. Is there something I can help you with instead?"

And I think, _YES. Yes you CAN._

"Yeah. It's me, Sonic."

As if Mint doesn't like my name or something, he theatres a 20-second long scream.

"Oh, hello, Sonic. May I ask...what exactly is happening back there?"

"Vanilla. She put me up to this unconditional babysitting thing...I need help."

He renders silent for some time. Besides the baby's screeching, there's nothing being said. I wait for almost two minutes, anticipation rising and rising until I feel like I'm going to start floating, as though I was inflated with helium. Suddenly, once my anxiousness has reached its fullest potential of exploding my brain, Espio says something that almost knocks me over in shock.

"Well, good luck with that."

And he hangs up.

I'm gawking at the phone, baby ruining my ear drums and mingling its cries with the dead-tone. And here I thought Espio was a noble, caring ninja that practiced justice selflessly for the good of others! I put aside the fact that I would have done the same.

Okay, so Chaotix, Knuckles, Tails and Rouge are all out of the question. Maybe they weren't even in the whole babysitter-search-equation-thing to begin with. I shake my head and try to hop and utter sweet baby-whatever's to get the kid to calm down. I saw them do this in movies, so why the heck isn't it working now?

Normally I'm a pretty easy-going guy, but I think I have finally met my match: children.

My frustrated groan is loud enough to bounce through the entire workshop, reminding me of Tails' betrayal that'll lead me to my probable death. He'll be SO guilty when he gets back! I'll make him _worship_ me in my _death _when he gets back. I swear I will.

And pipsqueak throws up on me.

That's it! I'm done! I'm surrendering. This thing is crying and screaming and hitting me and throwing up on me and something that smells bad is lingering with the smell of vomit and my head is hurting and my death is swiftly approaching and that's it! I'm calling Amy. It doesn't matter how sawed down my ego is, nor how nervous I'm getting with the phone in my hand, nor whatever the heck I feel about her, **I'm**. **Freaking**. **Calling**. **Her**.

Her number's already dialed before I know it; I don't need any phonebook for her. I know her number better than I know my name. I guess it's from all the times I've tried talking to her but freaked out and hung up the moment she answered. This time I can't bail out though. It's a matter of life or death here, and frankly I'd rather be stuck in a cage in the middle of the deepest and darkest ocean for a year than handle this kid on my own anymore.

At the third ring, I'm freaking out because she's not answering. Mint is still screaming when I hear an answer.

"Hello?"

My heart skips a beat.

"A-A-Amy!" Damn it, I never stutter like that. Except when with Amy.

"...Sonic?" I grin at her surprise. She's so cute. "You..."

"Yeah, I'm calling ya. That such a surprise?" I notice that Junior here has stopped crying. I look down and see his curious, hazel eyes widened and bright. I blink and experiment for a second, whispering Amy's name in his ear. A smile forms on his face, and I realize I can use Amy's name as a tranquillizer to soothe the torment!

"Well, yeah, that too," I hear Amy answer, and I can't help but smile at hearing her voice. It's kind of annoying, but a pretty neat feeling all the same, that fluttering in my stomach. "But...I'm more surprised you know how to use a phone."

"What the - OF COURSE I CAN!" And, stupid me, the baby starts crying again.

"Wait, is that...crying?"

"Yes." Quickly, I say Amy's name, but Mint doesn't react as I hope. "Vanilla kinda shoved Mint onto me."

"Oh..._Ohhhhh_," and I think she's getting the drift of my call. I kinda feel bad, because I never call her - well, I do, but never talk to her - but the day I do, it's to get her to save my life.

"Yeaaaaaaaah..." Youngster's still bawling his eyes out, and I have just been resolved to begging an almost-one year old to stop bringing such anguish to my mentality.

"You...sound like you're having issues."

"Oh? I wonder why you think that." Mint screams again. "I just don't get this! Why the heck is he crying! I've tried everything, Amy! _Ev-ery-thing_. I'm at my limit!"

"...Everything?"

"Yes!"

"Really?"

"YES!"

More crying.

"Did you check his diaper?"

I'm mute.

Oh...so _that's_ what smells so bad.

I look at him. He looks up at me, face wet but somehow ceasing to cry as though he understood our conversation.

...Oh, _heck_ no.

"I am NOT changing a diaper."

Mint starts wailing again.

"Sonic, you HAVE to! Vanilla entrusted Mint's life with you!"

"Hey, my life's on the line too! And she made a BIG mistake!"

"How is YOUR life at stake?"

"This kid is driving me insane!"

Have you ever tried arguing over the phone while holding an almost-one year old that's bawling and screaming its vocal chords to death and your brain out of your ears? I don't recommend it. E-v-e-r.

"THAT, Sonic, is because you haven't changed his diaper! Imagine sitting in your own crap because of someone else's negligence!"

"Amy, I don't even know **how **to change a diaper!"

"Ugh! Sonic!"

"I don't know ANYTHING about kids, Amy! Nothing!" A burning in my eyes threaten my composure. I think I'm actually tearing up.

She's quiet. I hear someone call out to her on her line, but she snaps at them to shut up. I wait, head pounding, heart quenching, and hope hanging over a cliff.

She breathes in. "Sonic."

"Yes?" I wait.

"I'm going to come and help you."

"YES! Amy, do you know how much you-"

"BUT..."

"...But?"

"You are NOT ditching me on this. I'm simply going to TEACH you. You have to stick around. No running out on me like the time you did when you called me over to babysit Cream."

"What? I never did that!"

"Uh, yes. She was four. You called me, and the moment I walked in, you were out of the door because you were too proud to play tea party."

"Oh...I just...am not good with kids?"

"Sonic, you're brilliant with kids, but only when it comes to entertaining them."

Junior's still lamenting.

"Anyways, I'll be right over. You better be so grateful you'll take me on a _date_."

I blush and look down at Mint. He shrieks in reply.

"Deal."

But she's already hung up. It seems it doesn't matter what my answer would have been regardless; I am taking her on a date after this. Cause I owe her the freakin' planet.

The wait for my savior (yes, that is how I refer to her now, the angel sent from heaven to guide me through trying times, like now) is excruciating, torturing. It seems that, with each passing minute, Mint's cries get an octave higher and louder. I'm ready to join him when there's a knock on the door.

I open it before her fist even leaves the door.

Her gorgeous jade eyes widen in surprise, not expecting my quick answer. Her cheeks are tinged a deep red from the cold, her hands warmly snuggled in knitted red mittens, and she wears a matching jacket and ear-warmers. She looks incredibly cute. I breathe her name calmly, feeling such a wave of relief pool into me. I don't think I have ever been so happy to see her in my life. Mint seems pretty piped up too; he starts laughing.

She beams at me. "Sonic!" She's a bit gentler with her death hug this time, since there's a child in one arm. Her embrace doesn't last as long either; her attention switches from me to the kid in a heartbeat.

"Oh, _Miles_. _What_ did Sonic put you through?"

She takes the crocodile from my grasp, lifting a huge weight from my aching arms, and brushes past me. Mint is laughing happily and, yeah, I guess I'm a bit jealous that he's got Amy's full attention. Amy shoots a look back at me.

"Don't you dare run out on me. This kid's a hassle. He's got the shortest attention span." She looks back at Mint and grins. "Reminds us of a certain someone, right Mint?" She smirks at me, and I realize she's referring to me.

"Hey!" I protest. "I don't have a short attention span!"

Both she and the baby give me a blank stare. They're all against me, aren't they?

"Okaaaaaaay, maybe I do." I pout and cross my arms over my chest.

Amy smiles fondly at me, and it's that smile that makes my face heat up and makes me avert my gaze to something other than her. She comes over and hands me the baby, then she takes off her winter garbs and tosses them on the coat rack. She's wearing a green, wool sweater and skinny jeans, which I always adore seeing on her. I find myself looking at her junk, but Mint, seeming to know my thoughts, bites me.

"YEAOW!"

Mint starts laughing, perhaps in victory, and Amy turns to see what's up.

"Ugh, crocodiles...their teeth...ow." And I thought laser beams were painful.

Amy giggles, then eyes my chest. "You…smell." She's referring to the throw-up. "Were you bouncing him?"

"Well, I mean, they do it in movies, no? And I've seen Vanilla do it!"

Amy face-palms. "Yeah, but you don't bounce them hard enough so that they _throw up."_

"Look, I've _never _done this sorta thing! Obviously something would go wrong!"

She sighs. "Okay, whatever. Let's just get that diaper changed."

Mint starts reaching out to Amy, his arms flailing and hands clenching and un-clenching. Amy smiles affectionately at him and lifts him up.

"He likes you," I comment, sort of fascinated at how smoothly Amy's handling him.

"Well, I do spend a lot of time with him. I'm his usual babysitter." She looks at me through her long eyelashes. "He'd like you more too, if you changed his diaper."

I grin as she leads me to the kitchen table.

"Did Vanilla bring a bag for you that has all the baby stuff?" Amy asks. In response, I dash to the front door and grab it, presenting it to her before she even finishes her sentence. She hands me the baby again, Mint squirming and punching me in process, and I watch her take out a black, plastic mat and lay it across the table.

"What's that for?" I ask her. She explains that it's just for the baby to lay on while getting his diaper changed. She then instructs me to place Mint _gently _on the mat, accenting the 'gentle' word. I do so, pleased at the perfect symmetry at the placement. I give Amy a wink and two thumbs up, and I'm pleased with a small giggle in response. She pulls out a carton of bum wipes and a diaper.

"You ready?" she asks me. It makes me feel like she's asking me if I'm ready to dive off a ten-meter diving board into the ocean. I shake my head. She gives me a blank stare and proceeds nonetheless.

I've seen this part in movies, the part where caretakers who know nothing about kids see a kid's diaper for the first time. Honestly, I'm terrified right now. I take a step back and feel my body tense up as Amy takes off the diaper and lowers the front half to reveal whatever is meant to be revealed.

It's. Disgusting.

Brown…_mush _plastered all along his butt. There's chunks of orange in there (Amy tells me it's just carrot or something, and I seriously want to hurl.) and there's a _lot. _I wonder how it's even possible for such a tiny guy to process so much _crap _and make it so gross.

"Please, Sonic," Amy growls, fists on her hips. "It's not _that _gross!"

I admire Amy's stomach. Really.

"It _is_. I have never seen anything so gross in my life."

She rolls her eyes and continues her process. Amy takes Mint's ankles - _gently_, she again scolds me – and lifts him a bit so that she can pull out the dirtied diaper from underneath him. She puts it on my side, making me zoom the other, and puts the new one underneath him, lifting him again. She lowers his feet and then takes some wipes and cleans a bit. She dumps the dirty wipe onto the poop in the other diaper. Then, to my revulsion, she hands me a clean wipe.

"Your turn," she tells me, and she goes out of the room. "Call me when you're done this part."

"W-w-w-w-w-what! Amy!"

But she doesn't come back. I look down at Mint, who is probably getting a kick out of this because he's giggling at me. He kicks his feet and makes a saliva bubble with his mouth. I would have chased Amy, but I don't think it's right to leave a kid lying on the table, so I'm glued to where I stand. I glance at the wipe in my hand to the kid's butt, and now I'm freaking out. How could Amy do this to me?

Subconsciously, my tongue is a bit out because I'm concentrating so hard on not getting any crap on my hand. Barely even touching, I get so much of a centimeter of poop onto the wipe and cringe immediately and throw it into the dirty diaper. I'm freaking out so much here!

I hear Amy yell to me to do it right, making me wonder if she can see me or something. I yell back at her that I can't do this, but she doesn't answer. I look back at Mint, who looks up at me curiously. My head drops slightly to my left, still looking at him.

I guess the little guy isn't too bad. He's kinda cute, when you look past all his squealing and the stuff that comes out of his rear. I smile at him with an eyebrow raised.

"I guess you were just uncomfortable, eh? Just wanted me to know?"

Cutely, Mint does a high-pitched squeal, but not one of those piercing complaints. It's a happy tone, as though he was agreeing with me using a long baby word. Still grinning, I realize that the crap isn't as bad as I thought it was at the beginning. Throw up is much worse. I make better progress now, using longer swipes and less-timid strokes to get the butt clean. I followed Amy's actions and lifted him slightly, doing this so softly that it was like I was holding a puddle of water.

Finally, I'm done. I triple-check to make sure he's spotless, and then I'm ready to call Amy. Then I decide against it, wanting to try to buckle him up on my own. Then I could show off to Amy.

This, of course, doesn't go too well. I just can't understand this procedure, because somehow the sticky part isn't sticking to the part it _should _attach to. With a groan and flaring arms, I holler at Amy that I'm done. She walks in a few seconds later, her cell phone at her ear, apologizing to someone on the other line. Without saying anything to me, she points at one part of the diaper, so I take that part and look at her.

"Yeah, I know Janine. I'm so sorry." She takes another part of the diaper with her own fingers, then points to another spot of the diaper, motioning me to take it. She has her phone clamped between her ear and shoulder as she guides me, shaking her head and motioning me to attach the part I had to the part she pointed to. As if it were magic, it sticks. I guess I smack on a goofy smile, because she hushes a laugh and tries to assure the person on the phone that she wasn't making fun of her.

"No, no – Yes, I know it's for your prom. I wasn't expecting – I'm sorry. I know. Next time, I definitely won't bail on you. A specific emergency came up – What! Oh, that's ridiculous! I don't – No!"

I don't need Amy's help for the other half. I got it this time. I'm very impressed with my awesome diaper-putting-on abilities. That Pull-Ups looks smacking!

"We'll go shopping for your dress tomorrow, okay?" Amy continues on, frowning. "Today sucked anyways. Well, you were all depressed, so you didn't think you looked great in anything. I'm not insulting you! Come on!"

I pick up Mint and show him off to her, and she gives me thumbs up. She continues arguing with 'Janine' for a bit as she takes the baby from me and motions to me to clear up the table. I do so, then I wash my hands. As I finish up, she hangs up and sighs.

I then realize that Amy had jeopardized her plans in order to help me. I feel guilty at this, recognizing the simplicity of something like changing a diaper.

"Where were you today anyways? Shopping, you said?" I ask her, taking Mint from her.

"Just downtown, with a friend. Her boyfriend's prom is next weekend, so she needs a dress. It's annoying because she's too old for him anyways."

I stop. "Downtown? All the way there?"

She shrugs. "It's no biggie, really."

"…I'm sorry, Amy." I look at Mint. "I didn't realize..."

She smiles at me. "It's ok. Besides," she claps her hands together, "you owe me a date now!"

I can't argue, even if I want to. She came all the way from downtown, which is a good twenty minutes, to help me change a diaper, after all.

So I smile at her.

She looks about ready to tackle me there on the spot, but there's a kid in my arms. I wonder if I'm happy about that, or wish Mint was still on the table.

A few seconds pass with us staring at each other (these sessions have been more frequent too, especially as of late) until Junior starts crying.

"Oh, no. No, no, no." I'm panicking.

"_Chill_, Sonic. Crying is just his way of telling us something's up. We just have to find out what." She stares at him for a few seconds, then concludes he's hungry.

"How can you tell?"

"His hands," she replies, confusing me. "See how he's clenching and un-clenching his hands? That's what he does when he's hungry. Or wants someone to hold him."

So, Amy pulls out store-bought baby food from the bag, a bottle of milk, and a Ziploc bag full of cheerios. She tells me to sit the baby down on my lap, so I position us at the table while Mint excitably waves his hands towards the food Amy brought out. She spreads some cheerios on a plastic plate, also found in the bag, and sets it before him. He starts reaching for it but almost knocks over the plate, so I decide to give them to him one by one. I meanwhile watch Amy put the milk in the microwave and start cutting up the banana into tiny slices.

I can't help but envision her as a mother. She does this whole caretaking-thing so well, after all. My eyes drift down to Mint sitting on me, and I then feel a connection of some sort, as if he and I had something bonding between us. He looks up at me when I think this and grins, handing me a cheerio he spit out of his mouth. I check out the saliva-coated cereal piece and am a bit grossed out, but I hear Amy chuckle and then I suddenly have something to prove. I take the offering from him and please his expectant gaze by throwing it in my mouth. Surprisingly, it tastes better when it's been drooled on.

He laughs happily and continues on, occasionally passing me a dry or drenched piece every so often. I think I'm getting the hang of this whole looking-after-babies-thing actually, so I'm fairly pleased with myself. This guy isn't so bad after all. I think I may even take up this sort of task again.

The microwave dings, causing Amy to part from the banana and pull the bottle out. I watch her shake it a bit, then she lets a drop of it dribble onto her wrist. Nodding to herself, she brings it over and gives it to Mint, who receives it whole-heartedly.

"Why'd you drip it on your wrist?" I ask Amy.

"So that I know if it's too hot or not."

Mint drinks away as Amy finishes with the tiny pieces of banana, which she places next to the plate of cheerios. The light blue crocodile eyes it suspiciously and pulls the bottle of milk from his lips, handing it to me. Amy cackles at him, now sitting in front of us at the table, as he reaches for a banana. He looks at it as though he was a miner observing a gold piece and, maybe concluding it to be acceptable, pops it into his mouth and looks up at the ceiling. Deciding he likes it, he reaches for the banana again.

Admittedly, I'm pretty fascinated by this guy. Who knew watching someone eat bananas could bring a smile to your face? I can't help but chuckle every-so-often, his facial expressions always changing and his humor constantly peeking. He's going to turn out great when he's older.

I glance up and catch Amy watching me fondly. She smiles at me and doesn't shift her gaze. "You'd make a great father some day," she tells me, causing me to blush and evade my eyes from hers. I reattach my focus on Junior, proving to be a decent aversion. He has decided to join his bananas and cheerios together into mini sandwiches now. He seems to like it, and I'm a bit tempted to try it myself. He goes for the milk every few bites, takes a gulp or so, then goes for the bananas first, then the cheerios. It was like his nutrition plan. I can still feel Amy peeking at me, but I don't dare raise my head. She probably knows how overly-aware I am of her right now.

Unexpectedly, she gets up and leaves the room. My eyes automatically follow her into the living room, where she sits on the couch and pulls out her laptop. I stare at her a bit, observing the screen shift from pitch black to a log-in screen, then an excel file of some sort. A shake my head and look back down, trying not to think too much about Amy. She's been having that affect on me lately, that one where I just get this need and I envision my lips thrashing onto hers. There has never been such a strong impulse before either, so I have to keep my guard up.

"You like that, eh?" I chuckle and pat Mint's head, so he smiles up at me and offers me one of his sandwiches. His hands are smeared completely with squashed banana and sticking-out cereal bits, but instead of being repulsed, I laugh. He starts babbling constantans and vowels, forming his own little language that I play along with. We end up having a conversation in a gibberish and repetitive sort of language, which is pretty cool. I don't think he hates me as much as he did a couple of minutes ago.

He voices the completion of his meal with a loud burp, which results in my childish approval and fit of laughter. I grab a wipe from the bag and clean off his hands, commenting on his messiness. He giggles in response and bites me, causing me to yelp and him snicker proudly and evilly. Shaking my head, I get up and bring him to the living room, where Amy sits on a couch and types a report of some sort. I vaguely recall that she got a job at some finance organization, but such a job is just too boring to want to hear the details. Now I want to know every aspect, though.

She turns and gets up, opening her arms and awaiting Mint's approach. He responds favorable, repeating her name almost clearly until he was being held by her. She comments that I stink and should take a shower, so I salute her and dash to the bathroom. I hear Mint audibly expressing his amazement with a loud 'aw' and then laughing excitedly, and I just can't help swelling up in pride.

* * *

I'm out of the shower in a few minutes. I decided to use Axe shampoo, since the commercials advertise that it's a woman magnet. I put enough on to clean a city, but that's besides the point. I just hope Amy is so turned on by my awesome man-smell that she faints.

Well, I don't want her to faint, but you get the idea.

I walk out and see her reading a children's book with him on her lap. She doesn't hear me, so I cross my arms and lean the right side of my body on the wall and watch her. I'm captivated by her interactions with children. She gives off an overpowering air of love and thoughtfulness, reminding me of how she's always been the first who listened to anyone's complaints, treat anyone's wounds, or offer a shoulder to cry on. She naturally offers herself up as someone to lend an ear and support, always one who treats everyone with contagious affection.

She'd be a great mother. Really.

Mint catches me standing there and beams at me, raising his arms as though he wants me to pick him up. I blink at him, surprised, but then smile brightly and walk over. He towers over Amy's arm that's around his stomach and reaches for me, so I take him. He starts tugging at my quills roughly, but I don't mind too much.

"He likes you," Amy said, mimicking my earlier comment.

"Well, I can't really blame him for that!" I smirk at her, head lowered because of the crocodile's tugs.

She beams lightly at me, then looks at the kid. "He's got such a personality, that guy."

"_Oh,_ yeah. And an intense temperament issue."

She gives me a look, then continues gazing fondly at Mint. Now he's slobering all over my fur, but I don't pay too much attention to it. Amy's sorta dominated all my interest somehow, the curve lines of her cheek bone and the twinkle in her eyes and the way her quills caressed her face being extremely distracting. I wouldn't mind staring at her all day. Heck, for the rest of eternity, I think I'd be fine.

* * *

Hours pass, but it doesn't feel that long. We found out that Mint is both terrified and ridiculously entertained by my sneezes, probably being the funniest thing I've ever seen. I let one out and Mint suddenly straightened up and stared at me with bulging, terrified eyes, and just when we were sure he'd start crying, he starts laughing hard enough to make us wonder if he's breathing. His giggles are short sounds piled into a long sequence of contagious chortoling. Amy and I were laughing our heads off at him and continued for almost twenty minutes just fake-sneezing and watching Junior's reactions.

Amy had to get some page done on budgeting, something involving the calculation of past expenses and revenues and basing future budgets on that. It sounded painfully boring, so I left her to her business. I took full shift of entertaining Mint for a good hour or so, often glancing up at Amy to make sure she was still there. I would like to think that it was because I couldn't handle the kid on my own, but I know better.

By two in the afternoon, the baby is yawning and his reaction time is dawdling. I glance up at Amy, who's still at the computer, and tell her this. She watches Mint as his eyes start closing and he starts leaning forward, but quickly jerks himself up.

"Nap time!" She takes him and motions to me to follow her into Tails' room. "Will Tails mind if Mint sleeps in his bed?"

"Nah, as long as he doesn't wet it."

"No promises."

I remember Tails bailing out on me in my moment of pure desperation.

"Naaah. It's fine."

Amy puts Mint in the middle of the bed and leaves the room momentarily after telling me to watch over him. I let Mint grab my finger and squeeze so hard that I'm sure blood is going to start spraying out from my claw. When Amy comes back with a small baby's blanket and a warm bottle of milk, my finger's still in tact. She gives the bottle to Mint, who takes it joyfully, and tucks him in under the blanket, stuffing the ends under him so that he is snuggled into a cocoon. She bends over and gives him a quick kiss before turning to me.

"He likes it when someone's sleeping with him, especially when he's not at home. Do you mind?"

I nod and hop onto the bed gently. Amy turns and is about to leave, but Mint starts calling her.

"He wants you, eh?"

Amy is a bit hesitant, and I think she is blushing, but I can't tell in the dark room. My face is heating up too because I envision us three cozied up together. I start to get up so that Amy and I can swap, but Junior starts crying.

We both look at him.

"He wants...both of us," Amy whispers. We just stand there for a few seconds, letting the kid cry, until I finally get a grip and grin at her.

"Well, bed time!" I get back in bed and pat the opposite side of Mint. She's still blushing when she slides on, facing upwards when she lies down. I decide to do the same, Mint now calmly drinking the milk with a small giggle.

It's like he's setting us up, this guy.

"Maybe babysitting isn't that bad," I comment, glancing over at Amy. My arms are underneath my head in a pillow position. Half of the action is to be comfortable, but the other half is so that Amy gets a good whif of my man-smell.

She giggles and turns around, facing Mint and I. I do the same, our faces now a finger's length away. "Of course not, silly. You were just over-exagerating."

Mint's eyes are struggling to stay open, but he won't be able to keep this up.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But seriously, Ames, thanks for coming and helping me out."

Even in the dark, I can see her eyes sparkle. "No problem, Sonic."

Mint's snoring vibrates on my stomach and his fingers are grasping one of each of ours. Amy's eyes shut, and mine slowly follow, thinking with a chuckle about how great of a family Amy and I could have.

I am drifting off, but I think I faintly hear the door open and a familiar pair of giggles, then the click and flash of a camera and something about showing this to Knuckles. But that is probably my imagination.

* * *

Had a whim, and it just went downhill from there. I was also experimenting with first-person present-tense. This has enabled a discovery: it is NOT my forte.

I'm still working on Cinderella Story and Vanishing Thorns. Fret not.

For the baby laughs that inspired Mint's actions, go on Youtube.

It was ok in the beginning, but I lost my motivation towards the end. Sorry about that.


End file.
